


love will clothe your bones

by ohsailor



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst and Feels, Exes, M/M, Melancholy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 03:36:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18402311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohsailor/pseuds/ohsailor
Summary: On Harry’s 27th birthday he calls Louis from outside the pub. It’s been 5 years since they broke up.





	love will clothe your bones

**Author's Note:**

> This work is completely fictionalized. No affiliation with the people mentioned.  
>   
> darling, when your feet are cold  
> wait up, I'm coming home  
> and all of you, I will hold  
> my love will clothe your bones
> 
> -bones, josh record

The winter sky seemed to go on forever. Harry shivered against the hood of his parka, the harsh cold of the wind already seeping into his bones. He could still hear the faint rumble of music from inside the pub with the sound of laughter echoing from down the street and cars passing by on the damp roads. Harry bit the leather finger of both gloves to pull them off, tucking the pair under his arm as he carefully scrolled through the contacts on his phone. He traced the edge of his screen slowly, the tip of his finger gently gliding across the screen. The name was there, just as it always had been, so familiar to Harry that he could have simply dialed the number by heart. Somehow it felt necessary to make the process more formal. Like he wasn’t deserving of simplicity. 

The chill of the wind was harsh against his cheeks as he brought the phone up to his ear, tucking his face against the soft collar of his coat as the sound of ringing made his heart beat faster.

“Harry?”

Harry pressed the phone against his cheek, his fingers gripping the sides so tightly his hand shook. The light airy voice rang through the phone stopping Harry’s heart as he heard his own name. The voice sounded exactly the same as Harry remembered despite the panging notion that he was talking to someone who was a stranger to him. The juxtaposition of this realization squeezed his heart painfully. 

“Louis,” he said breathlessly. “Hi.” 

“What’s wrong? Are you alright?” 

There was a sharpness to Louis’ voice. Harry recognized the panic rising up within it. He knew it well. It was reminiscent of the time so many years ago, in their final 6 months, when Harry had called him from the hospital.  Louis had been  _ so _ angry with him. After the initial fear had passed and upon finding out that he had climbed a tree in the park by campus on a dare and subsequently fallen out, cracking his forehead wide open right there on the pavement, Louis had threatened not to speak to him for the rest of the week. It seemed to be their natural rhythm; Harry pushing the boundaries on life’s adventures and Louis standing by to pick him up where he’d fallen while cursing his stupidity. 

“Everything’s fine. I just -” Harry paused, trying to search his brain for the right words to properly convey the overwhelming urgency he had felt dashing out of the bar 10 minutes earlier. 

“You just what?” Louis asked, voice softer this time. 

Harry swallowed. “I’m 27, Lou.”

He could hear the breath leave Louis’ lungs. “You are 27. Happy birthday, Harry.”

“Thanks. Surprised you remembered.”

“Not the kind of thing I could forget,” Louis said. “It was the first thing I thought of when I woke up this morning, actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

Harry bit his lip and let his body slide down the cold, damp wall. “I don’t deserve that.”

Louis chuckled on the other end of the phone, the sound like a warm breath against Harry’s skin. “Maybe so. Doesn’t make it any less true.” Harry heard shuffling now, the soft padding of footsteps and doors opening like maybe Louis was leaving for a more private location. “I guess important dates never really leave your mind,” Louis continued.

“I’m honoured that you’d count my day of birth as such,” Harry said. 

“Or  _ maybe _ I’m just particularly fond of the first day of a month.” Even through the line, Harry could hear the grin in his voice as Louis teased him. It brought a smile to his own face. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to forget the sound of Louis laughing. 

“Hey now.”

“You know I’d never forgot your birthday.”

Harry slid the toe of his boot across the sleek bed of snow covering the sidewalk. “It’s not the same without you.”

“Harry...”

“You kept your same number,” Harry continued, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his coat. The cold was already getting to him. “After all this time.”

“So did you.”

Harry considered that. “You recognized my number.”

“Of course I did. You think I could just forget?”

“No. Yes.” Harry tucked his free hand into his pocket and paused. “I guess I thought maybe you’d  _ want  _ to.”

Louis sighed. “Why are you calling me, Harry?”

“I wanted to hear your voice.”

“You wanted to hear my voice,” Louis repeated. “Okay.”

“It’s the truth.”

“It’s been five years, Harry.”

“I know,” Harry said. “I know it’s not fair. I know I have no right.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“It’s just. It’s my birthday? And all I could think about all day was that you weren’t celebrating with me. I was standing here surrounded by all these people that I love and it just wasn’t...it wasn’t  _ enough _ . Something was missing. So I had to try. I had to try and reach you. I ditched my own party and ran out here into the cold, not knowing if your number was the same or if you’d be home or if you’d even answer the fucking phone but I  _ had _ to, Lou. I had to try and reach you. I’d do anything to try and reach you,” He finished softly. 

“Harry...I.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Harry said quickly. “It’s my stuff. I’m just happy you answered.”

“I did,” Louis said. “Of course I did.”

“I’m grateful.”

“So,”  Louis paused. Harry could imagine him pacing back and forth, his hands curled tightly in the sleeves of his sweater, trying to decide what he should do next. “How are you?”

Harry smiled. “I’m good. Things are good. How are you? How’s, you know... everything?”

“Everything is good.”

Harry considered his options. Louis was never one for small talk. On their very first date, which Louis had been reluctant to agree to, Harry had had to carry the conversation for most of the evening. Until Louis warmed up to you, he was quiet and defensive. Not easy to get information out of. Harry figured this phone call was exactly the kind of unwanted social interaction that Louis tried to avoid.

“Are you seeing anyone?”Harry decided a bold question was the way to go. It might get Louis talking. Or at the very least, encourage him to call Harry an asshole. He deserved that. 

Louis scoffed. “Are you?”

Harry laughed hollowly. “Do you think I’d be standing outside in the dead of winter alone if I were?”

The pause on the other end caught Harry by surprise. “I don’t know what to think, Harry,” Louis said. “I don’t really know you anymore.”

“Don’t say that,” Harry said quietly. “Don’t ever say that.”

“Can you blame me?”

“No,” Harry said softly. “I suppose I can’t.”

Louis breathed hard into the phone. “This is mad. Talking like this. I mean, we haven’t seen each other or spoken in so long. I don’t...I don’t even know where you are in the world.”

“I’m in London.”

Louis hummed. “Really?”

“Really.”

“I half expected you to say you were in France or LA or like...Canada.”

“Canada?”

“Well, I dunno. When you went away. I guess...I guess I didn’t know if you’d come back.”

“I was always going to come back, Louis.”

Harry could hear the soft creak of Louis moving around through the phone, as though he were pacing. “Just. After uni...after we broke up. You just felt so far away. Like you could be anywhere. And it didn’t matter. Because you weren’t here. You weren’t with me.”

“Louis. You have to know. I didn’t want to…” Harry swallowed, closing his eyes against the pressure building behind his eyes. “Leaving you...it  _ broke _ my heart,” he croaked. 

Louis’ voice was barely above a whisper, so quiet that Harry might not have heard it if only he weren’t already expecting the answer. “You broke mine.”

“I know. I know I did.” Harry sucked in a breath, pausing for a moment to see if Louis would say anything else. He didn’t. “I thought - I thought  I was doing what was best. For both of us.”

“I know you did,” Louis said softly. “It was a long time ago.”

“Seems like forever...”

-

Harry paced up and down the sidewalk as he and Louis settled into mostly comfortable conversation paired with the odd easy silence as they both found their way. There were brief interruptions of drunk passers-by or those leaving the bar but Harry ignored them, leaning against the wall as he chatted. He couldn’t even feel the cold anymore. 

“Do you remember your 19th?” Louis asked.

Harry grinned. “Of course I do. It was a Tuesday. And I had a sociology presentation in the morning.”

“You were stroppy about it.”

Harry scoffed. “I was  _ not _ .”

“You were.” Harry’s heart ached to hear the smile behind Louis’ teasing. “You thought we should all go clubbing or something to make it feel like a big night.”

“Well,” Harry said defensively. “I wanted it to be special. Even if it was a weekday.”

Louis laughed. “Sorry to have let you down then.”

“Are you kidding?” Harry said. “It was one of my best ever.”

Harry could practically hear the eye roll on Louis’ end as he answered.“I’m sure.”

“I remember you baked me a cake in the dorm kitchenette,” Harry continued fondly. “Remember that? And we sat and ate it right there on the floor. No plates. I think they were probably all dirty. Just us and two forks on that dirty green tile.” 

“It tasted awful,” Louis said. Harry could picture the tiny scrunch in his nose at the words. Louis had the most expressive features of anyone Harry had ever met. Because of them, he was never able to hide his feelings well. Something in the glint of his eye or the curl of his lip or the scrunch of his perfectly freckled nose always gave him away. It was one of Harry’s favourite things about him. Something he missed the most. 

“I loved it,” Harry said.  

“It didn’t even have any candles,” Louis laughed. “Liam was meant to get them. He forgot. Figures.” 

“Do you still see Liam?” 

“Now and again.” 

“I hate that I fell out of touch with everyone.”

Louis hummed. “I reckon that happens to everyone after uni, though. No matter what.”

“No matter what,” Harry repeated wryly. “Hey, it snowed that year,”  he remembered. “Just like tonight. Except it was prettier, fluffier snow. First time in years I think.” 

“That’s right,” Louis said. “You were desperate to see it. So we went outside. Walked around campus in the dark. Laid in the snow and made angels. Remember?”

Harry did remember. He remembered thinking Louis was exceptionally beautiful that night. The way flecks of wet snow clung to Louis’ lashes, the sparkle of blue in his eyes like a work of art against the bleak evening sky. The way he had been so eager to make Harry’s night feel special. 

“Yes,” he said softly. “I remember.” 

“It was beautiful. Everything clean and covered it white. I felt invincible that night with you. Like nothing bad could happen.”

“Me too,” Harry said. “How long do you reckon we stayed out there?”

“Long enough that I couldn’t tell if any of my limbs were actually still attached to my body.”

Harry laughed. “I believe your exact words were that your ‘balls may bloody well fall off.’” 

“Something like that. I don’t think we actually realized how cold we really were until we got inside.”

“Yeah,” Harry laughed. “I felt like I might never be warm again.”

“But in the moment…”

“It was perfect,” Harry finished for him. “Like we couldn’t even feel the cold.”

“I reckon we used up all the hot water for the entire building that night.”

Harry grinned as visions of Louis’ skin filled his brain. His soft rosy cheeks when they stumbled in from the cold, striping their clothes off and pressing their cold hands on each other’s bodies as they waited for the water to heat up. The way water glided over the smooth expanse of Louis’ back, the weight of him against Harry’s chest as they let the warm water cloth their bones, covering them, pressing them together until they were one.

“Hey, it was my birthday. Anything goes.”

“You know, I don’t think that’s actually a thing,” Louis said. 

“Well, it should be. Your birthday should be a day where anything goes,” Harry teased. “Like. Pancakes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Because they’re fucking delicious. And riding the tube for free. That should be a thing.”

“And using up all the hot water for the building,” Louis laughed. 

“Anything goes,” Harry repeated.

“And calling your ex after 5 years of not seeing each other or talking?” 

Louis’ voice was calm as he asked, steady in such a way that Harry couldn’t tell if he was taking the piss or legitimately upset. “I-”

“It’s alright,” Louis said with a small laugh. “You know I've thought of calling you before too.” 

“Yeah?”

“Course.”

“On your birthday?”

“My birthday, your birthday, the bloke down the street’s birthday. Just. Always. For a long time, always.”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. “I always want to call you on your birthday. And other days. Every day. For a long time. Always, me too.”

“So why haven’t you?”

“I’m always afraid it will ruin your day.”

“It wouldn’t have,” Louis said quietly.

“Lou?”

“Hm?”

“I don’t want to do this.” 

“Do what?” 

“Turn 27. Not without you.” 

“It’s already after midnight,” Louis said softly. 

“I know,” Harry sighed. 

“You’ve had a lot of birthdays without me.”

“I know,” Harry repeated softly. “The thing is though. All day all I could think of was you. I’ve spent all these years and days, every  _ minute _ thinking about how stupid I was for letting you go and I just. I don’t want to do it anymore. I don’t want another birthday without you. I don’t want another Christmas without you. I don’t want another snowy winter night without you. 

“Harry.”

“You want the truth?”

“Always.”

“I really hate doing life without you.”

“I really hate doing life without you too.”

-

“You never told me,” Harry realized.

“Told you what?”

“Where you are? What city I mean.” 

“Oh,” Louis said surprised. “I’m here. In London, I mean.”

“But you hate the city!” 

“It’s grown on me.”

“Wow,” Harry said. “Yorkshire boy Louis Tomlinson in the big city. I never would have believed it.”

“Shut up.”

Harry snickered.

“You’re one to talk, Holmes Chapel.”

“Excuse me, Louis. I may come from a small village but I’m really a city boy at heart. I always had my hopes set on bigger adventures.” He kept his tone light, not wanting to delve back into a conversation that he couldn’t get out of.

Louis merely laughed. “You were always going to outgrow your little village. You knew you had adventures to be had,” he said. “Me? I guess I didn’t realize there were greater plans in store for me. I never thought I’d leave Donny.”

“Funny how things change.”

“Funny how they don’t,” Louis said quietly, his voice so faint Harry was almost convinced he had imagined it. “So tell me,” Louis continued casually before Harry had a chance to respond. “Where’s the old birthday bash happening tonight?”

“It’s nothing too fancy,” Harry said. “Actually, do you remember when we all came into the city for that concert in 3rd year?”

Louis laughed. “You mean the one you forced all of us to buy tickets to?”

“Okay, I did not force. I asked. Aggressively.”

“And then we all stayed in that shitty hotel room with the two twin beds.”

“Okay, yeah, that place  _ was  _ dodgy.”

“The sound of Liam’s snoring still haunts me at night,” Louis said. “Also, I reckon he hasn’t shared a bed with anyone since.”

“Who knew Niall was such a cuddler,” Harry snorted. “Our end of the deal wasn’t so bad though,” he added. The memory of the two of them in that tiny bed was fixed in his brain permanently. Visions of the worn 80s floral wallpaper covering the walls, the texture of the scratchy quilt that covered both their bodies as they huddled together, Louis pressed warmly against Harry’s back in a perfect fit. Like they’d stay that way for always. 

“If there’s anyone I’d want to share a tiny, lumpy mattress with, it’d be you,” Louis replied. He gave a small laugh as he said it and Harry wondered he if thought about that memory as often as he did if it meant as much to him. Whether he’d felt the same sense of togetherness that Harry did. 

“Anyway, you know that bar we tried to get into after the concert because we hear the band was going to be there?”

“Wait. You’re there?”

Harry hummed. “I mean, it’s a little too posh for my everyday taste but one of my mates is a bartender here so he insisted we have my birthday night out here.”

“And you’re outside?” Louis asked slowly. His voice sounded odd as Harry listened to movement on his end of the call.

Harry frowned. “Yeah?”

“Wait for me.”

Louis’ voice was careful now, his words framed by a hollow silence that froze Harry in his tracks. 

“What?”

“ _ Wait for me _ ,” Louis repeated. “The bar you’re standing outside of? The one we almost went to all those years ago? I go there all the time. My flat’s around the corner from it.”

“You...what? Don’t fuck with me, Louis.” Harry could feel the heat on his cheeks and the tingling spreading across his fingers as he swallowed. “I can’t take it,” he whispered.

“I’m not fucking with you,” Louis said, laughing softly. “I really am sat in my flat around the corner from you, where I’ve been talking on the phone with you for the past, like hour, after five fucking years...I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried.”

“And you’d really want to see me?”

“More than anything,” Louis admitted. “I thought I wasn’t enough for you back then. When you left, I just let you go. But it’s different now. You’re here. I’m here.”

“Stay on the phone,” Harry said.

He slumped further against the brick wall, sliding down until he was crouched above the wet ground, phone clutched in his hand as the sounds of movement filled his ear.  He gazed up. The sky had grown clear as the night went on, the lights of the city barely reaching the faint scattering of stars as soft sheets of snow fell. 

“Nearly there,” Louis was saying in his ear, his voice faint and slightly out of breath but somehow closer than ever. 

Harry looked up then, dropping his phone from his face and sliding it into his pocket as he walked to the end of the street corner. He gazed across the road as the sounds of soft feet on wet cement emerged, a black car sliding across the road and obscuring his view until suddenly everything came into sight.

Harry took a deep breath, his cheeks warm as he blinked the wet snowflakes from his eyes and stepped forward.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading xx  
> [reblog the post here](http://coffeehazza.tumblr.com/post/184066136093/coffeehazza-love-will-clothe-your-bones-by)  
> 


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